Carniel Better off dead? University of Southern Queensland, Australia Jess Carniel Better off dead?: the creative practice of reviving Ophelia Abstract: Various attempts have been made to reclaim Shakespeare’s heroines from tragic fates and patriarchal oppression. Hamlet’s Ophelia has been a particular source of inspiration for writers and filmmakers but, as with many heroines of the tragedies, the greatest challenge for revising Ophelia is rewriting her death, which is the pivotal point of her narrative significance in the original play. Framed within a broader consideration of the feminist project to revive and reclaim Ophelia in the 1990s and beyond, this article considers how treatment of Ophelia’s death in twenty-first century has been the significant narrative turning point for adaptations and appropriations. This focus on her death has either facilitated or compromised her subjectivity and agency. The article concludes with suggestions for the other thematic and technical possibilities afforded to both creative writers and literary scholars engaged in the process of canonical revision. Biographical note: Dr. Jessica Carniel is a Lecturer in Humanities at the University of Southern Queensland. Broadly, her research interests focus on popular culture, gender, and multiculturalism. Keywords: Creative writing – William Shakespeare – Ophelia – Feminism TEXT Special Issue 36: Shakespeare 400 1 eds Dallas Baker & Laurie Johnson, October 2016 Carniel Better off dead? Introduction: the feminist project of reclaiming lost heroines There have been various attempts to re-imagine Shakespearean tales from alternative perspectives for the express purpose of engaging audiences with the story, if not the form of Shakespeare’s plays. One of the major issues encountered by many of these re- tellings is how to represent Shakespeare’s female characters in a modern, rather than early modern, context. In general, Shakespeare’s female characters are spirited and intelligent, similar to the female characters audiences find appealing in modern comedies and dramas, but nevertheless may still be constrained by the expectations of early modern femininity and the limited fates for women in literature – usually death for those who transgress social, sexual and political boundaries, and marriage for those who eventually submit to the patriarchal forces at play in their lives. While dramatically appealing, these fates can be considered problematic for modern audiences, particularly for younger audiences, so it becomes necessary to reclaim these heroines in the retelling of these stories. Many modern adaptations and appropriations attempt to find ways to subvert patriarchal structures and story lines, and to emphasise female agency. In the BBC’s 2005 mini-series, ShakespeaRe-Told, for example, Much Ado About Nothing’s Hero refuses Claude’s (Claudio in the original) attempt to rekindle their romantic relationship and instead offers him friendship, while in the well-known appropriation of Taming of the Shrew, 10 Things I Hate About You, Katherine’s submission to Petruchio at the play’s end is transformed into a voluntary moment of emotional vulnerability from Kat and an act of contrition from Patrick that seeks to portray them as a couple that has found equilibrium and equality after their troubled courtship. These examples are, of course, comedies. It is more difficult to revise the fates of Shakespeare’s tragic heroines: ShakespeaRe-Told’s Lady Macbeth still falls into psychosis and dies, and O’s Desi cannot escape a tragic death at the hands of her partner in the 2001 cinematic retelling of Othello. To reclaim these women from the clutches of tragedy, the dramatic denouement must be entirely re-written and subverted. Reclaiming Hamlet’s Ophelia for consumption by twenty-first century audiences, specifically young adult readers, presents a particular challenge. Here, after all, is a girl driven to madness by her lover, leading to her eventual death by misadventure nearby a brook. Such a fate rankles with even the most reluctant teenage feminist, taught by popular culture that the best breakup revenge is success. Despite these challenges, ‘reviving Ophelia’, to draw upon the title of Mary Pipher’s 1994 self-help book of the same name, has proven to be a particularly rich creative practice, particularly for authors of young adult novels, but the question remains as to why Ophelia appears to be particularly inspiring. After all, a quantitative analysis of Shakespeare’s Hamlet renders Ophelia a minor character: although she is significant as one of only two female characters in the play, she is present in only four scenes, delivering a total of 58 out of the 4042 lines of Shakespeare’s longest known play. Despite her minor role, Ophelia resonates, particularly with younger audiences. As mentioned, she is one of only two female characters in a play that jostles with Romeo & Juliet to be the most studied in schools and as a young unmarried woman she is more romantically appealing than Gertrude, a middle-aged, widowed mother. TEXT Special Issue 36: Shakespeare 400 2 eds Dallas Baker & Laurie Johnson, October 2016 Carniel Better off dead? As a result of these factors, Ophelia is a clearly enough drawn character to resonate, and yet vague enough to provide clear opportunities for writers to fill in the gaps of her story. A particular opportunity presents itself in the fact that Ophelia’s death occurs off- stage, recounted poetically by Gertrude. I suggest here that Ophelia’s usefulness to readers, writers, and cinema audiences is this very vagueness and malleability of both character and narrative presence, which makes her vulnerable to our own creative interpretation. Framed within a broader consideration of the feminist project to revive and reclaim Ophelia in the 1990s, this article considers how treatment of Ophelia’s death in twenty-first century adaptations and appropriations has either facilitated or compromised her subjectivity and agency. Dragged from the depths: Ophelia’s ’90s revival The visual reproduction of Ophelia through art and cinema has ensured that this otherwise minor Shakespearean character has had a lasting presence in Western culture. Pre-Raphaelite John Everett Millais’ 1852 painting Ophelia is perhaps one of the most ubiquitous images of Ophelia, which was in turn referenced in other representations of the character, such as her death in both Franco Zeffirelli and Kenneth Branagh’s cinematic productions of Hamlet. All of these graced our cultural consciousness in the 1990s, from cinemas to the Millais print on the wall of the average undergraduate (possibly alongside Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss and/or John William Waterhouse’s The Lady of Shalott). Ophelia was thus never entirely gone or forgotten, but she was most frequently captured and thus remembered in that moment of death. Into this cultural milieu, psychologist Mary Pipher released a best-selling manual for understanding teenage girls in the 1990s that references Ophelia’s iconic death in its title. Pipher argues that coming of age in the 1990s presents adolescent girls with different challenges to those faced by their parents, wherein physical and emotional changes are complicated by cultural forces and the pressure, both internal and external, to become independent from their parents. These pressures can result in a split between girls’ true selves and the roles they are forced to take on in order to conform to social and peer expectations. Pipher uses Ophelia as a cipher for female adolescence because she felt her story ‘shows the destructive forces that affect young women’ (2010: 20), both specific to and transcendent from specific historical context. Interestingly, Pipher’s revival of Ophelia coincided with the rise of Girl Power discourse. Viewed superficially, these two discourses provide ostensibly conflicting perspectives of femininity; while both are centred on youthfulness, Girl Power emphasises assertive, dynamic femininity, and Reviving Ophelia emphasises the vulnerability, voicelessness, and fragility of girlhood. Yet Marnina Gonick urges an intersecting rather than competing interpretation of these discourses, arguing that when they are read together, rather than in opposition, the ‘Girl Power and Reviving Ophelia discourses emphasise young female subjectivities as projects that can be shaped by the individual rather than within a social collectivity’ (2006: 18). Elizabeth Marshall suggests that the arrival in the 1990s of these discourses is no coincidence, identifying this era as ‘a unique cultural moment in which an ongoing TEXT Special Issue 36: Shakespeare 400 3 eds Dallas Baker & Laurie Johnson, October 2016 Carniel Better off dead? struggle around gender, sexuality and power are [sic] made visible through diverse discursive and material representations of adolescent girlhood’ (2007: 711). Although it was a bestseller, feminist responses to Pipher’s work have been highly critical. Jennifer Hulbert highlights Pipher’s selectiveness in her appropriation of Ophelia in preference to the other ubiquitous Shakespearean teenager, Juliet who, ‘for Pipher’s purpose … is not pathetic enough’ (2006: 202) She has too much agency, is too sane, and is too vocal to be a useful symbol of oppressed contemporary teenage femininity. By fixing on an agenda of silence and vulnerability, Pipher’s project is evidently flawed from the outset; as Erica Hateley observes, ‘Pipher had to fix, objectify, and contain her. In short, Pipher had to take a patriarchal approach to Ophelia